


Putting on the Ritz

by betawho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>River Song was wearing a tux...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting on the Ritz

“I’m ready when you are, Sweetie!” River called from the top of the stairs, she was pulling on a pair of white gloves.

The Doctor looked up and almost swallowed his tongue. River was wearing a tux.

His ears got hot, his eyes felt like they were bugging out, and he was getting cold chills.

She was wearing his top hat, the one from Amy and Rory’s wedding. He loved that hat, it wasn’t a regular stovepipe hat but was slightly short and flared out a bit at the top, it had character.

It looked fantastic perched on River’s curls.

His eyes involuntarily slid lower. She grinned and twirled for him, the tails flaired out, giving a whole new definition of “tails.”

No tux was ever meant to hold that many curves. She definitely filled it out better than he did.

“Uh!” His tongue seemed to have stopped working.

She bounced down the stairs, eyes bright, his white scarf flipping flirtily over her chest.

“Uh.”

She strode up, tilting her head, the hat perched jauntily to one side.

She was even wearing patent leather shoes. So brightly shined he could see his confuddled face in them.

And that waistcoat had never looked so good. Very... full.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

She looked up at him, eyes glittering. That very full waistcoat less than a handbreadth from his chest. He could feel the heat of her.

She was wearing a bow tie.

He squeaked.

She grinned. “So what are you wearing to the reception?” she asked. Nonchalantly.

They were going to an ambassadorial reception on Velishan. Velishan was one of the social experiment human colony worlds. There was no gender divide there. Everyone wore male fashions, there was no distinction between men and women’s work, and a third of the population was actually androgynous.

“Well,” he swallowed and lowered his voice. “Well, I can’t wear a ball gown,” he said more seriously.

She looked him up and down. He found himself clenching his fists. She was all clean and freshly scrubbed, her hair bouncy and shining, he could smell the light floral scent of her shampoo, it was going straight to his head, making him dizzy.

He had to stop himself reaching out to touch her hips. What she did to a pair of tuxedo slacks, was illegal in several different galaxies.

He could see why.

“Well,” she drawled, drawing his attention back to her face. She was practically laughing.

She reached up and touched his lip with one cotton gloved finger. He almost exploded. “You’ve got pretty legs,” she purred. The sound went through him like a kitten rubbing against a live wire.

“You can wear the kilt.”

—

* * *

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